


I'm Lost (but I know where I wanna be)

by sammyspreadyourwings



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Dorks in Love, Engagement, Falling In Love, Fluff, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, True Love, Weddings, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 14:33:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18551710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammyspreadyourwings/pseuds/sammyspreadyourwings
Summary: Five times Roger is late to important things because someone or himself has gotten lost and one time he didn't have to go anywhere.





	I'm Lost (but I know where I wanna be)

**Author's Note:**

> I blame the DL server for this fluff monstrosity, (it's good blame don't worry). Shout out to Brahe for a few of the suggestions on this list. And a shoutout to me for not going in the slightly angstier direction I was planning. That plot is for another day. Enjoy!

> 1

Roger pauses outside of the room; he tries to smooth his hair into a semblance of neatness and tries to catch his breath. He doesn’t take too long, he’s already twenty-six minutes late (thank you confusing university building), and at this point, he isn’t hopeful that the band had stayed after the last audition. Still, he has to try. He shoves the door open, with a cocky grin that thankfully isn’t wasted.

There’s a man sitting on a stool fiddling with his guitar. He looks up at Roger’s loud entrance. Roger is knocked back in surprise, short black hair (badly straightened he hopes) frames a long face. It’s the eyes, there’s a kind of raw hunger in them that Roger knows very well. The guitarist being easy on the eyes is certainly a benefit to this whole “Smile” thing.

“Uh,”

“Roger Taylor, here for the smile audition?” Roger bats his eyes.

“Well, we wrapped up about half an hour ago,” the man looks away, “but I guess since I’m still here you can give it a go.”

“Thanks.”

Roger winks at the man before saunters over to the drum. He pulls one of his drumsticks out of their case and taps on the snare. The sound is off, and he bends down to start fiddling with the tension.

“What are you doing?”

He peaks over the kit, “tuning the drums.”

“You can tune drums?”

Roger rolls his eyes and continues tapping. The sound is getting closer to what he likes, “yes you can. Sorry, this might take a minute. Did none of the other drummers check?”

The man shakes his head, “no. I’m Brian May, by the way. I’m lead on guitar.”

He bites back the response that first rises to his tongue, mostly because Brian didn’t have to give him the time of day to audition, and it was mean. Brian wanders behind him, Roger glances up to see nothing but curiosity. _Had no one tuned them?_ He might have a better chance than he thought.

Smile is probably a long shot, considering he’ll have to play at a place with a kit for the time being while he fights his mom for his, but he’s itching to play something real. He doubts he’ll find what he’s looking for here, but Brian might be able to point him in the right direction.

Eventually, the drums are as close to the sound that he wants as they’re going to get. It’s an old kit and he doesn’t want to risk damaging the skins before he’s even played. Roger nods and Brian backs away to his previous perch.

“Can you sight read?”  
Roger holds back the wince; his sight sometimes isn’t good enough to sight-read depending on where the stand is. Brian hands him the paper. He scans the sheet and lets out a breath of relief, it’s just a basic rhythm, something he could play in his sleep.

“Embellish as little or as much as you like. I’ll jump in when I think you’ve got it.”

“Better be fast on those strings then,” Roger smiles.

Brian looks away and there’s a flush on the tops of his ears. Roger’s smile softens and he clears his throat. He counts in and then hits the first drum. As he figured he gets into the rhythm easily and adds rolling strikes and hi-hats in when he feels like it without falling out of time. Brian joins in shortly after.

Magic happens.

Roger’s never heard a guitar sound like Brian’s. They work well together. He can pull Brian to a faster tempo, but Brian doesn’t overpower the drums like some guitarists like to do. Both continue to push and pull at each other, and only it’s when Roger’s arms start aching that they stop.

“That was-”

“Yeah,” Brian laughs.

Roger looks up and is caught by the wide grin Brian is sporting (the dentist portion of his brain gets caught on the crooked tooth) but it knocks the rest of the air out of his lungs.

“I’ve got to talk to Tim, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re in.”

This Smile thing might work out after all.

> 2

Roger stumbles into the restaurant. His hair is sticking to his forehead, and his jacket is heavy with rain. The host eyes him. He holds up his hand.

“Actually, I think someone is supposed to be waiting for me?” Roger offers.

The host glances down to the book, “name?”

“Well, it’s supposed to be under Taylor, but I think May was the one that checked in?”

“Ah, yes,” the host writes something down, “only an hour late.”

Roger winces, “is he still here?”

“Yes, and he’s been very kind about it.”

“Right, er, can I be taken to the table.”

The host nods and starts walking to a deeper part of the restaurant. Roger figures that he should’ve called, but between his car breaking down and his uber getting lost, he hadn’t thought about it. A real dick move, after consideration. Hopefully, Brian hadn’t waited just to tell him off.

Brain smiles when their eyes meet and Roger thinks that he might be safe. But he isn’t taking any chances. It took him months of convincing Brian to even try a date with him. He’s not about to blow it because he has the shittiest luck in the world.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Roger says after they hug in greeting, “my car broke down and then the uber got lost and then he took me to the wrong block but it was only a couple of blocks away and it was just easier to walk. I should’ve called but I didn’t think about it?”

Brian holds up his hand, “it’s okay. I figured that something like that happened. It’s why I’m still here.”

Roger lets out a sigh of relief, “yeah, okay. So, I’m guessing you’ve looked over the menu. What looks good?”

“They recommended the spaghetti, but served family style so it’s a large portion, they have a really nice mushroom red sauce apparently.”

“We can do that,” Roger nods, “if that’s what you want?”

Brian lays the menu down, “it’s what I’ve been thinking about getting.”

“Great, which wine do they recommend?”

“I think one of the whites?” Brian says, “we can ask again when they come back.”

“I really am sorry about being late,” Roger feels like he has to apologize again.

Brian smiles softly, “it’s fine. Things happen, I understand.”

“Just making sure, I doubt I’ll get a second date if this one goes poorly.”

“Do you want a second date?”

“Wouldn’t have worked so hard for the first one if I didn’t.” Roger leans forward.

Brian also leans forward, “bet you say that to all the pretty ones.”

“Only the really special ones, I promise.”

“Are you ready to order?” The waitress breaks the spell.

“Uh right,” Roger clears his throat, “we’re going to do the spaghetti with the mushroom sauce and whichever wine the chef recommends.”

The waitress writes it down before grabbing the menus and vanishing again.

“You know you’re just going to get the most expensive wine on their menu,” Brian replies.

Roger places his hand over Brian’s extended one, “well, let’s hope he has an excellent taste then.”

> 3

Roger keeps his hand in his pocket as he runs. He’s put off this plan for months now as soon as Brian started talking about wanting to see this comet or whatever it is, they’re going to squint and gasp at. Now he’s running late for it _and_ it’s time sensitive. This time it isn’t really his fault, except for trusting Freddie and his cats to not have knocked the damn ring behind the dresser.

Thankfully they already had plans to meet up. Roger glances at his watch, he still has a good fifteen minutes before the “start,” and he’ll probably make it there in ten at the speed he’s running at. Which means a good five-minute rest period before he has to get through a speech.

Right now, everything still has a chance to be perfect. Then he trips over a hole. His ankle gives and he hisses at the burn in his palm from being scrapped by the gravel. He flexes his foot and determines it’s probably just sprained.

And the ring is still in his pocket.

Getting to the viewing site is a little more of a challenge, and his progress slows significantly. Now he has people grumbling at him as the blocks a tiny part of the night sky. He’s grateful that he knows his boyfriend’s night sky profile by heart now, they’ve been here many times over the past four years.

Roger likes to think of it as their spot. Brian’s head is cocked skyward, and he has to pause just to catch his breath. He still doesn’t know which Brian is prettier, the one lost in the stars or the one that gets lost in music (a dark horse contender is when Brian is sprawled under him sleepy and sated).

“There you are,” Brian hums.

“Here I am.”

“I was starting to think that you got lost.”

“Never,” he flushes at Brian’s pointed look, “well this time I didn’t. Freddie lost something of mine and I had to find it. Then I rolled my ankle on the way up.”

“Are you okay?”

Roger steals a kiss, “better now. It’s just a little tender. I’ll let you nurse me later.”

_If he says yes._ Roger shakes his head; he’s certain Brian is going to say yes.

“You missed the first shower.”

“Oh, is it a meteor thing? I thought it was a comet thing.”

“No, the comet _thing_ is next month.”

“Oh, right because we’re going to be in America and you were bummed about missing it, despite you know, being on our first tour in America.”

Brian leans against him, “it only passes by every seventy years.”

“Oh, well, we’ll just have to wander out here when we’re ninety.”

He feels the soft laugh against his throat. Roger’s pulse picks up.

“We’re going to still be together then?”

_This couldn’t be more perfect._ Roger moves away from Brian, trying to resist the slightly annoyed pout. He feels bad for stopping the cuddles, but he really needs to get this out. His hand tightens around the box.

“Hopefully,” Roger clears his throat, “Brian May-”

“Oh! The second shower!”

Roger ducks his head into a laugh, “babe, stop being spacey and pay attention to me for a sec.”

It takes Brian a second to pull away from the sight. Roger moves in front of him, just to encourage his full attention. He doesn’t need to be shown up by things that are millions of miles away (or not what do meteors even do? He’d ask Brian but he’s not prepared for that lecture _again._ It’s hard to listen when Brian is so excited).

“Okay, what were you saying?”

“I was saying that I hope we’re together still when we’re ninety.”

He takes a deep breath and finally removes his hand from his pocket the box still clenched tightly.

“Brian May, you are simply beautiful. I count myself a lucky man to even be loved by you. We work together well, even when we’re fighting. If you had told me being late to an audition would’ve been the best thing to happen to me, I wouldn’t have believed it. Except it’s true. I got Queen and you out of the deal.”

Brian tilts his head and smiles fondly.

“What this rambling is trying to get at, and I even had a speech prepared, notecards and everything that Freddie’s cat ate, is that I love you. I love you so very much and I would nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you.”

He flips open the lid, “and despite being late every single time I think I’m right on time this time, Brian May will you marry me?”

Brian knocks him back with the force of his hug. The box slips out of his grip for a second, but Roger manages to hold onto it.

“Is that a yes? If you don’t say anything I’m going to take it as a no.”

“Of course, it’s a yes.”

“Great, wonderful. That’s really nice.”

“Roger, the ring?”

“Right, that’s important.”

They shift and Roger places the ring on Brian’s finger. It’s a simple band with no stone, he didn’t want Brian to worrying about it getting in the way of his playing. The ring itself is shiny silver, and while he knows Brian won’t notice it for a day or so, the tiny inscription makes his heart soar. _My enduring partner._

> 4

He can’t believe he’s running late for his own wedding. John is two seconds from murdering, but he really can’t blame Roger for this. The driver eating bad shrimp wasn’t exactly in the itinerary, and since neither of them can drive a limo (which is a little too much for Roger’s tastes, but Freddie had somehow talked them into it), they had to wait for a new driver. Who after he picked them up, got lost on the way to the venue.

Now he’s sitting in traffic a good five minutes before the actual ceremony is meant to start.

“Did you call Brian?”

John looks up from his phone, “I texted Freddie, who is presumably freaking out while Brian calms him down.”

Roger snorts, “you’d think that this is his wedding.”

“He’s just happy that his two best mates are finally tying the knot.”

Eventually, traffic starts to move, and they’re not too delayed, twenty minutes past the start of the ceremony he finally is able to see the venue. They’re getting married in a private park that they found awhile ago. There’s enough privacy to cover their rising fame, and it’s truly beautiful.

John and he rush to where the officiant is waiting, rather bored with the chattering of aunts and grandmothers. Roger gets tugged to the side by his own mother who straightens his tie and jacket.

“I swear, you’re going to be late to your own funeral.”

“Just make sure the driver doesn’t eat any bad shrimp, and we’ll be fine.”

His mother smacks him gently and John takes up his best man position. Roger smiles at the crowd and then stands in his spot. The officiant perks up. John makes a slight gesture with his hands. Freddie plays something he wrote just for the wedding.

He turns his head and spots Brian walking his way towards him. The white suit looks good on him, Roger had settled on a gray suit, but they both wear dark red vests. He can’t help but admire the way Brian’s tamed curls bounce with his steps. Roger reaches out with his hand to help Brian up the single step.

They grin at each other, and he ends up missing most of the officiant’s speech. He barely hears the prompt for his vows.

“Right,” Roger grips Brian’s other hand, “well, first, thank you for handling my chronic lateness with such grace.”

It earns a chuckle from Brian and the audience.

“But mostly, thank you for being in my life. I have no idea where I would’ve ended up if I hadn’t met you, but I know for a fact that it wouldn’t be half as good as this life. Waking up next to you, making music with you, falling asleep with you, it’s perfect. I love you entirely.”

Brian clears his throat and blinks his eyes rapidly while the officiant gives her little prompting speech.

“Well, I’m pretty sure you’d still be playing the drums,” Brian begins, “you might always be late, but you always know exactly what to say. It’s hard to imagine going a day, now, without speaking of you. At first, the intensity of this emotion I felt scared me, but loving you became the easiest thing. I’m glad we can wade into the future together.”

This time Roger is blinking his eyes to rid them of tears. He gets lost in Brian’s eyes, but he’s ready for the cue to kiss his _husband. They’re married. How’d he manage that?_

> 5

He’s going to be late, for his _honeymoon._ Roger had hoped that when he got married that his lateness would take a back seat, at least for a couple of months. Naturally, it’s gotten worse. Between dropping Brian off at the doors of the airport and parking (and proceeding to get lost in the parking lot _why is it so big)_ , there’s been a backup in the security line. He sways from foot to foot, trying to figure out the best way to get out of this mess.

Nothing comes to mind, but they do open a second line, which he’s happy about. It still takes about fifteen minutes, but then he’s through. His flight is being called to board and _of course,_ it’s on the other side of the airport.

He hikes his bag up higher and starts moving as quickly as he can through the crowds. Why Brian wanted to fly commercial he doesn’t know. Sure, it’s first class but they’re currently the number one band in the UK, he’s sure they could’ve chartered a private jet.

For once he’s relieved that no one noticed him. Brian is tapping his foot anxiously. Roger snickers into his hand at Brian trying to not look like Brian May the Guitarist from Queen. The ball cap and sunglasses do not cover enough of his hair to make him not look like that.

“There you are, what happened?”

“Back up at the security line.”

“They just called our group.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Brian wraps an arm around his shoulder, “you didn’t miss the flight and that’s what’s important.”

“True enough,” Roger laughs.

The slip into line just before the next group is called. Brian shifts the bag on his shoulder.

“You know, it’d be weirder if you were on time.”

“I was technically,” Roger pouts.

“Then you got lost in the parking lot,” Brian shoves against him.

“There are so many signs, and some of them contradict!”

“I didn’t say it was for no reason, love.”

“Well,” Roger crosses his arms, “now we can get lost and not worry about anything for two weeks.”

“That is true.”

Roger ducks in front of Brian as they walk into the loading bay. Brian grabs his hand and they tangle their fingers together.

“Although we can’t get too lost, we do have to come back and record, and then go on tour again.”

“Why didn’t we just keep our honeymoon at home? We’re going to see the world at one point or another.”

Brain squeezes his hand, “because now we get to do and see things on our time.”

“There’s really only one thing I want to do,” Roger wiggles his eyebrows.

Brian swats at him, “public, love.”

“That makes it fun.”

He accepts the smack against his arm with grace and a laugh.

> +1

Roger loves the mornings where he doesn’t need to be anywhere and there’s no one calling for his attention. There’s no chance of him running late or getting lost or someone else getting lost. He rolls over and nuzzles into the warm body next to him.

His eyes flick open and they drift upwards to Brian’s face. Roger smiles at how the light plays across his face. A few curls stick to his face, and Roger pulls one from where it’s dangerously close to falling into his mouth. His fingers skim across Brian’s cheek. The early morning sun catches on his wedding band and turns the silver into a golden color.

Brian’s brows furrow, but then his eyes flutter open. He smiles and Brian smiles back.

“Morning.”

“Morning,” Brian yawns, “been up long?”

“No, maybe half an hour.”

He rolls as Brian shifts downward to rest his head on Roger’s shoulder, “mm, lazy you could’ve been doing something.”

“I was.”

“Staring at me doesn’t count.”

“But it’s my favorite pastime,” Roger pauses, “after drumming of course.”

“Naturally.”

Roger places a kiss to Brian’s forehead. Brian lets out a soft sigh.

“We should get up.”

“Why?”

Brian digs his chin into Roger’s chest, “we have things to do.”

Roger tangles his hands in Brian’s hairs, “but do we have to do them?”

“Laundry, cleaning the house, I think Freddie was talking about dinner.”

“Later.”

“Roger.”

He wiggles so that he’s eye to eye with Brian. It’s hard to resist the temptation to steal a kiss, so he doesn’t, and smiles when he pulls another one of those little happy sighs from Brian.

“I think we should just cuddle this morning.”

“You think that every morning.”

“Yes, but we don’t have anything _pressing_ to do today.”

Brian frowns. Roger bats his eyes.

“Fine, but only for a couple of hours.”

He brings their foreheads together and closes his eyes, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. Brian’s fingers rub circles by his hip. Roger plays with Brian’s hair, which is soft if tangled. They don’t speak, there are birds chirping outside of their window and the sun is going to end up in his eyes eventually.

There’s no place he rather be. He knows that no matter how many times he’s lost or late as long as he can end up back here, he won’t ever complain.

“I love you, you know.”

Brian smiles, that same smile from the audition so many years ago. The one where Roger first sees the little crooked tooth and then how it lights up Brian’s entire existence. His heart settles with the peace of being exactly where he wants to be.

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all liked that! As always leave your thoughts and comments below or come talk to me on tumblr!


End file.
